An Auror of 5
by Asreena
Summary: At the beginning of sixth year, Hermione is recruited to serve on a team of undercover aurors with a group of unlikely people. But even working together, their efforts might not be enough to save the one place that matters most. (Status: Rewrite, preface)


Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot belongs to me. People, places, and things all belong to… someone else. Namely JK Rowling, but shhhhhhh!

Summary: Hermione and a few others band together under Dumbledore to work against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Order of the Phoenix style.

Review: yeah, yeah, yeah!

Pairing: Hints at Ron/Hermione, and Draco/Ginny.   
  
Archive: dubiously If you want it… go ahead and take it. Just let me know, please? I_ certainly _won't say no… I just want to know so I can brag. .

A/N: Auror of five has become AU in the process of it's rewrite-- and not through any fault of mine. The problem is simply this-- the original Ao5 was written in the break (the very, very LONG break, Hint-Hint, Mrs. Rowling,) between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. So it IS canon after GoF. But, taking into consideration events OotP (sob!) it's just not anymore. Hence the AU label. The sequal take into consideration the events of Goblet of Fire, and rationalizes them (I can't tell you how, yet,) but since it's a major plot point there, I can't bring it into this fic. So until you become enlightened, please just turn your heads and allow that person to remain alive.

There's only one problem with this-- I don't _like _writing AU. If you're _going _to write AU, then just change the character names and label it "original," why don't you? But I -do- like this piece of writing, and the universe IS the same, so… just label it AT or something. Alternate Timeline. Whatever. .

(my friend wants to know if I'm from an Alternate Dimension. Har har.)

Ooook, since I'm babbling now, I'll just get my point across-- if you go to my biography pages and look at my fics, there should be one labeled Ao5 2.0. It's _basically _the same story… but I've rewritten certain parts of it so it's still canon. (bawls) Namely the exclusion of one major character… you know who I mean if you've read OotP.   
  
So anyway. Like this story? Wanna see it evolve? Go there. And don't mistake it for Auror of 3-- that's the SEQUAL to Ao5. It will be undergoing a similar rewrite as soon as the Ao5 one is done… and will include mucho more angst on Remmie's part. Siiiiiigh. Righto. On with the show.

An Auror of 5

Preface

Sixth year Hermione Granger strode quickly up the corridor leading to the headmaster's office, her face bent into a frown with a mixture of worry and surprise. The summons to attend the headmaster in his office immediately had arrived by way of a first year just minute ago, interrupting her Potions class. More disconcerting was the accompanying, sealed note the child had brought, the password written in narrow, looped writing inside. In the past six years at Hogwarts, Hermione couldn't remember a single person _ever _having been summoned to the headmaster's office without their head of house or the deputy headmistress.

Her contemplation carried her within steps of the office. "Lolliblood Pop." she told the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance, who leapt aside lightly. She stepped through the outer library and climbed the stairs upwards, stopping short as she reached the landing. Just inside the doorway, dressed in somewhat worn robes, gray streaked hair hanging down his back limply, stood a familiar figure.

"Professor Lupin!" Loosing momentary control of her composure, Hermione flung herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"Good to see you too, Hermione." He returned the hug, though she backed off quickly when she saw him give a half-hidden wince. He'd grown frailer since she'd last seen him at the King's Cross station, and looked more tired, but the latter could have just been the effect of the approaching full moon. "Or… not good, considering what we're here for, but…" he muttered softly.

"What _are _we here for?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, frowning once more. "Is it Voldemort? Has there been an attack? Is my mum-- is she all right? Is it Harry?"

He looked somewhat taken aback "No, no, slow down, Hermione, it's none of those. Has Dumbledore not told you…?" Remus Lupin raised an eyebrow at his former student, whose expression of puzzlement had not faded in the slightest. "In that case, I don't think it's _my_ job to tell you." Hermione narrowed her eyes and let out a rather exasperated sigh to show exactly how she felt about this, but said nothing more, leaning down to scratch the dog who had draped himself over Lupin's feet. The dog grinned up at her and thumped his tail twice reassuringly. She laughed.

"Hello, Si-s-Snuffles." She faltered slightly, catching herself as she noted the other occupants of the room. Neville Longbottom sat in one especially overstuffed armchair, face blotchy from crying, sniffling still. Hagrid kneeled next to him, trying with Lupin to comfort the boy.

"There, there, Neville. I'm sure's nuttin' bad, after all, if't were, Dumbledore wouldn'ta called the rest of us here." The half-giant soothed.

"Besides, Neville," Hermione reminded him brightly, "It can't be all bad. After all, we're missing potions." Neville gave her a weak grin and nodded, and reached down to scratch Sirius's neck ruff. The oversized mutt stood and rested his head on Neville's knees.

"He's a nice dog, Remus." Neville remarked, scratching behind his ears. Sirius's eyes closed in bliss. Hermione worked to restrain her laughter, finding the idea of Sirius in human form, in the same position, absurdly amusing. "What kind is he?"

"He's a… a… hybrid mutt." Lupin appeared to be having a similar dilemma to Hermione, as his lips were quirking up at the edges. His response set Hermione into a set of quiet giggles. She politely covered her mouth with her hands and tried to turn it into a cough. She also failed dismally. Politely, but dismally. Her reaction set off Lupin, and upon seeing his chuckling, she lost all semblance of control. Hagrid and Neville watched them in befuddlement, exchanging glances asking, 'have they just gone nutters?'

Dumbledore entered, glancing around at the contingent, eyes flashing behind his spectacles. "Indeed, he is a dog of many qualities." He agreed quietly. That set Lupin and Hermione off again, to the point where they had to lean against each other to remain sitting up. Sirius removed his head from Neville's lap long enough to grace them both with an indignant look, and Neville and Hagrid began scooting backwards slowly, slightly unnerved by the display of hysterics. Then again, hysterics had become an understandable reaction to events in the past few years since Voldemort's rise. Sometimes, they were even expected.

Dumbledore held up one hand calmly to still their giggles calmly, and Hermione and Lupin promptly fell silent, gasping slightly for breath. When he was satisfied all were calm, the elderly wizard nodded towards the chairs scattered about the room. "Please, have a seat, my friends…" the four complied, scooting the chairs so they were in a semicircle around Dumbledore's desk. Lupin took the outer edge, one seat open between him and Hermione. Neville, still slightly unsure of the former professor's safety, took the other edge, placing the comforting bulk of Hagrid between himself and the werewolf. If anyone noticed, they were too tactful to mention, though Snuffles rose to his feet and trotted back over to his master, flumping down in front of the chair. Hagrid shifted restlessly, and Neville slowly fiddled with the embroidery of the chair. Dumbledore examined each of them for a moment as he waited for them to settle, peering keenly over the rim of his spectacles.

"Well now. I expect some of you," he glanced deliberately at Lupin and Hagrid, "Know or have a good idea-- why you're here."

"Is it about the Order?" Hermione asked softly. Dumbledore nodded in approval.

"Perhaps more of you then I thought." He smiled. "Yes, Hermione, very good. It does concern the Order. Something, might I remind you, you are not supposed to know about." The young girl flushed slightly, despite the good-natured, jesting tone in his voice.

"Professor?" Neville asked hesitantly. "The Order? What is that, sir?"

Dumbledore smiled, directing his gaze at the other student. "Of course, some of you still do not. The Order-- The Order of the Phoenix, actually, is a group of witches and wizards, willing to protect their world, and the muggle one, from the Dark Lord."

"He-who-must-not-be-named?" Neville's lip quivered slightly. "Excuse me, sir, but…"

Dumbledore's eyes danced. "You think me little more then a doddering old fool, no doubt. Maybe even an alarmist."

"Gran says--"

"That the Ministry of Magic is taking care of it?" Neville nodded. "That's what most have said. The Ministry, the _Daily Prophet…_a good deal of the general population. And by all means, you are welcome to believe it.

"But I also wish to remind you that the Ministry has only just recently begin to even acknowledge the reemergence of Lord Voldemort, and his rise to power. They are just now, even as we speak, struggling to their feet."

"Tha's because the min'ster…--" Hagrid began.

"Hagrid, Hagrid!" Dumbledore held up a hand. "While I understand your thinking, we are not here to malign our allies. We have far more important business to take care of." The half-giant looked down, embarrassed. "The facts are simply these: It can take as many as three Aurors to restrain just a single Death Eater, and Aurors are, by nature, a solitary group. Also, they are a selective one. There simply just are not enough Aurors to go around and do their jobs, especially when they're in such high risk positions and there's a minister like Cornelius Fudge in office. Death Eaters are secretive, especially the lower level ones. Often times we simply _don't know_ who they are. But it's not like that for Aurors. With high-profile jobs such as theirs, the only way for them to apprehend a Death Eater is to catch one in the act. If a Death Eater wishes to dispose of an Auror…" Dumbledore looked down, grimly. "All he must do is sneak into the Auror's house one night. The Ministry tries to keep the statistics hushed, but a full two thirds of Aurors actually die _outside _of battles and duels." The old man shook his head slightly, returning to normal and smiling. "So! The obvious conclusion that presents itself is to have a similar group on our side… a secret society, if you will. And that is the Order of the Phoenix. Headed by none other then yours truly." In emphasis, Fawkes called out and flapped his wings several times. Before I go any further, there are those of you who must recognize someone among your group."

Sirius padded out into the middle of the room, turned, and transformed. After the fight in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore had been able to prove Sirius was innocent of the murders he'd been imprisoned for, after capturing Wormtail lurking about a bar in muggle London. They reversed the spells on both wands, and Sirius had emerged clean while Wormtail's carried several previous castings of the Unforgivable curses. A quick trial-- the Mark on Wormtail's arm was all the testimony needed-- and Wormtail made his way into Azkaban and Sirius was declared free. Not that it had made a difference. Wormtail hadn't stayed put, of course-- the Dementors were already gone to Voldemort's side, and he was free in a matter of days. The Ministry, trying desperately to cover their twelve-year long blunder with Sirius, called into question his escape from Azkaban, which was a crime in and of it's self. That, compiled with the public belief that no one who'd spent a decade near the Dementors could _possibly_ be sane anymore, had forced Sirius (upon his return,) to remain a fugitive. There was no panic when Sirius appeared in the middle of the room, but Neville did shrink back into his chair. Hermione smiled and nodded, noticing he'd filled out and cleaned up a great deal since the last time she'd seen him. Every time since they'd first met, he'd seemed to move a step closer to healthy. Hagrid paused, contemplating the student he remembered from so long ago. The eyes of the entire room locked on him, Sirius fell into the extra chair between Lupin and Hermione, muttering comically under his breath. "' 'Dog of many talents.' _'Hybrid mutt.' _Oh… excuse me, Albus. Do continue, please. Otherwise, I'll have hurt these two."

Smiling slightly, Dumbledore continued, "Some of the most dangerous dark wizards of our time have been captured, not by Ministry workers or Aurors, but by what are known as Doppelgangers. Auror doubles. Aurors who work in groups of five or six.

"Well. All of you would make wonderful Dark-wizard catchers, for whatever reason. Hermione, you're the brightest of the brightest." She blushed and concentrated on her shoes, knowing she'd be getting quite a lot of teasing from Sirius on that comment later. "Remus, Sirius, you were two of our side's strongest arms 15 years ago. We need you still. Hagrid, well, you already know your part, you always have. Neville- you have personal reasons…" He regarded the young wizard. "Neville, I'm about to ask you something very horrible, and I'm sorry for it, but you must answer me, do you understand?" Neville shrank in on himself and nodded slightly, though he looked as though he'd rather not have Dumbledore ask at all. "What was the worst part of what happened to your parents?" The elderly wizard asked gently. Neville sent a frightened glance around, looking for rescue from the others "Neville…" Dumbledore instructed, catching and holding his gaze. "Look at me. Now, please, I need to know…"

"Th-they were OK for a few years after it happened…" Neville whispered hesitantly. "Th-they thought… the, the doctors said they were recovering… b-b-but they never did. We visited them once a week, and they got worse and worse.. Slowly… I watched them going slowly insane… Mum was still enough with us when I got into Hogwarts… we told her, she was so happy… b-b-but when I came home on Easter vacation she d-didn't even know me…" He shivered slightly, sinking back into his chair. Fresh tears skittered down his face. "And I dream a-ab-about it sometimes, and I c-can't see anything, b-b-but I can hear it, and I c-can hear them sc-sc-screaming, and.."

Everyone stood still, watching the exchange. While Neville talked, Dumbledore held his wand to his forehead and drew it away slowly, a thin stream of shiny liquid following it as he removed the thought from Neville's mind.

"Sirius, the Pensieve, if you please…" Sirius stood and strode to the cabinet, opened it, and took out one of the two Pensieves sitting there… one was a large stone basin, and Hermione recognized it as the one Harry had told her of in their fourth year. The other was much smaller and less full, more vase-like instead of a bowl. That one, Sirius retrieved and set in front of the headmaster, who added Neville's thoughts to it. "Now then, Hermione, if you would be so kind as to get some tea, please…"

But Hermione had already exited the office and returned with a warm cup of freshly brewed tea in her hands, which she handed it to Neville. He accepted it with a smile of thanks, but his hands were shaking so hard he barely managed more then a few sips before it slipped from his hands and crashed on the ground. Hermione pulled out her wand, about to clean it up, before she realized Neville had beaten her to it. _"Accio!" _he cried, and the shards of porcelain flew to his hand. He dumped them over the edge of his chair, directly into the garbage can, without cutting himself once. "Sorry, professor.." he muttered- not stammered- quietly, clearly to tired to even comprehend what he'd just done. He worked up the nerve to look up at Dumbledore, who's smile was very wide indeed. Neville blinked, looked at the rug, the garbage can.

"That was a very fine summoning charm." Sirius commented, leaning against the cabinet from which the Pensieve had come out of. Neville sputtered.

"I… I just did… did you see what- I said, _'Accio,'_ and it _came! _I didn't have to pick it up by hand, I'm- I'm not a Squib!"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he turned to the only female in the room. "Hermione, you're muggle born… do you know anything about the muggle disease Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

Hermione looked startled at the change of topic. "Er…" She searched her memory bank quickly. "Well… you already said it was a muggle disease. If I remember right, it happens after a person experiences an especially traumatic event. They get really depressed, and obsess about it… forget everything else…"

Dumbledore nodded. "There is a similar disease in the wizarding world, I'm very sorry to say. After a wizard witnesses something horrible enough, his or her magical ability is dampened or knocked out completely. That's how the first Squib came to be. Sometimes, if the shock is great enough, it will completely sterilize a wizard's magical ability. When that happens, their children are sometimes Squibs, as well. Many wizards became Squibs after the rise of Voldemort the first time.

"With Neville, it was much the same." He smiled. "All you needed to do was clear it out of your system. I'm sure you'd like to view that thought later, maybe add in a few more… but for now, back to the business at hand."

Neville shook his head, looking scared. "You want me to catch dark wizards? N-no. There's better people. Harry… Harry'd be better.

"No, Neville, I'm sorry, Harry wouldn't." Dumbledore stated insistently. "Harry is a remarkable boy. However, Harry, in this position, would want revenge. Harry, also, is not here at the moment. As a matter of fact, he's doing work for me elsewhere."

Sirius muttered uncomplimentary comments, not quite as softly as he could have. Hermione leaned forward, interest peaked. "Harry's working for you? What's he doing? Is it… well, is it anything like this?"

Dumbledore smiled indulgently and pretended to ignore Sirius. "First and foremost, he's avoiding the Dark Lord. But on the way, he's been collecting information for me to pass on to groups like you."

"You have other groups of Aurors?" Hermione asked softly, taking her seat again.

"Not quite." Dumbledore corrected. "Doppelgangers. Auror doubles. You understand the reference, of course." Hermione nodded.

"It's an old German folk tale, Neville." She explained for her baffled classmate. "The word means 'double' or 'duplicate.' They believed that everyone had an exact replica walking around somewhere, and if the two ever met, one would have to die." She redirected her glance to Dumbledore. "Which means we're obviously outside of the law." Sirius coughed a bit, Lupin found something very interesting on the ceiling requiring his attention. Hermione let out a less then dainty snort. "I thought so. So we're like… people who _should _be Aurors…?"

"But who the ministry could never employ." Dumbledore replied. "Or _would _never employ." He looked very grave. "What you'll be doing is, technically, illegal. You _must_ realize that, all of you. If you're caught, the ministry might go easy on you. The Order has a number of informants in it's ranks, but there are no guarantees. With the Minister's recent paranoia, and his… determined denial of the situation at hand, you may well get charged with plotting to overthrow the ministry. Or thrown into St. Mungo's for delusions." He locked gazes with them all in turn. "Being a doppelganger is only a job for someone who truly has nothing to loose. People who _can't_ be Aurors, whether they're too young," he winked at Hermione, "Too old," his hat fell sideways. He appeared not to notice. "A Squib," Neville turned pink. "A convict, bad ancestry, or a problem in their past." Sirius smirked, Hagrid looked abashed, Lupin made a face, and Dumbledore grew serious once more.

"You won't be getting paid for this, you won't be congratulated. You'll be heroes, but no one will know. When-- not if-- Voldemort sets his plans in action once more, you would all have been at the top of his lists. Doing this will only add to that, you must realize. You'll probably be injured. You may even be killed. But the five of you, standing together, stand a better chance of surviving the coming years then any of you did separately. And working together, you might be able to insure others survive."

"Albus," Sirius spoke up "you know our vote. We did what we could before, and… Well, we'll do what we can now." Remus didn't even have to nod in affirmation for the assembled group to know that Sirius spoke for both of them, utterly without question.

"Professor," Hagrid began, "I already delivered the message, but if ye need more, I'd be glad ta help, if I can. But I'm no' exactly inconspicuous, an' most Wizards round these parts know who I am, bu'…"

"I'd like to." Neville said quietly, startling them all. "I mean… for my parents… a-and… no one would suspect me, s-s-so.."

"Very well." Dumbledore said softly. "Hermione?"

Hermione was fully prepared to say no as Dumbledore's words repeated themselves in her head. Nothing to lose? She had plenty to lose. She had her mum and dad, after all… but her father was dead, killed in attack fourth year summer. Step-da, yes-- her mother had remarried-- to a pureblood, who'd turned against his own family. They'd fled to America for safety, even though she'd insisted on staying in England to finish her schooling. She hadn't seen either of them since mid fifth year. She thought of Ginny, who lay awake crying every night for her brothers when she thought Hermione couldn't hear. She thought about Charlie, in hiding in Romania, after doing a bit of secret courier work for the Dumbledore. And Bill, who'd been caught and charged for hiding muggle-born Wizards in one of the high security vaults below Gringotts. Percy-- Ginny was positive he was a Death Eater. Fred and George, whose new popular store was forced to close earlier and earlier every night, as the curfews in Diagon Alley and Hogsmead crept forward.

And Ron, who'd given her a crushing hug at the end of last year, warning her to be careful, 'With your mum and being muggle born and all.' She'd spent that summer at Harry's, where it was safe. Harry… aside from vague hints from Dumbledore, they didn't even know where he was anymore. After Dumbledore's protection on the Dursley's house had failed over the summer, the only word she'd had from him had been the occasional note passed through Dumbledore, and not a single one since the beginning of term.

"Yes. Yes, I'll do it." She whispered, before she'd realized the words were even out of her mouth. Dumbledore beamed.

"I knew I'd chosen well. Here is how things will work. I, as your agent, will provide the information you'll need to catch death eaters. Only 4 of you will actually be doing field work…"


End file.
